Harry Potter and the Chamber of Food Snatcher
by Fat Friar
Summary: After a mysterious visitor and failed burglary attempt, Harry Potter is finally off to his second year at Hogwarts. However, bigger problems than bathroom malfunctions and ungrateful friends await him there... The Chamber of Food Snatcher has been opened once more. Enemies of the heir... DIET.
1. The Quicksnacks

Harry Potter laid pathetically on the cold hard floorboards of the Dursley's living room, too weak to rise.

'Keep polishing the floorboards boy! The Quicksnacks will be arriving any second!' Uncle Vernon growled scoffing down a cream biscuit. 'Mr. Quicksnack has offered an important business arrangement for Grunnings' new confectionary products but will only seal the deal if his germophobic wife sees our house is spotless.'

Harry rolled slowly onto his front like a beached whale and flopped feebly towards the polishing rag. He wondered why Uncle Vernon felt the need to share this with him, perhaps ordering Harry around whilst simultaneously downing a whole pack of biscuits was somehow therapeutic before a big business deal.

'And when you're finished you can take you and your baggy trousers upstairs and lock yourself in for the rest of the week.' He finished licking his sausage sized fingers that gave sausages a run for their own sausageness.

'What!' Harry exclaimed confused, 'but the door requires a retina scan of your eyeball to open and close!'

Uncle Vernon's beady eyes stared the scrawny wizard down, 'Are you arguing with me boy?' He raised a meaty fist (probably sausage).

'No Uncle Vernon' Harry said dejectedly hitching his trousers up to his armpits so waddle slowly over to the stairs.

 _Ding Dong!_

'Come on Dudders that must be them!' Aunt Petunia's annoying voice rang down the hall as she tried to drag her bulky son Dudley out of the fridge. 'Answer the door sweetie, Oh no! You're covered in crumbs!' Harry heard fat wobbling as she tickled Dudley under his many chins.

'Quick boy out of here!' Vernon gasped in a panic hefting Harry by the waist and shoving him feet first up the chimney. Harry squawked in surprise and struggled to stop Dudley's humungous pants from falling over his eyes.

'Hey that's not fair!' He choked, mouth full of soot. Suddenly, Aunt Petunia's grating voice and the sound of mammoth foot falls made Vernon Dursley freeze.

'Welcome to our loving and hygienic family home Mr. and Mrs. Quicksnack.'

Ceasing the opportunity, Harry slithered from his pants like a snake sheds skin and slipped between his Uncle's beefy arms. He stumbled out of the fireplace and made for the stairs leaving a trail of soot just as Dudley -cajoled by his mother- offered each of the guests an antibacterial wipe.

'BOY!' Thinking, a first for Vernon Dursley, he dragged the plush sofa diagonally across the trail of ash in front of the fireplace knocking over two coffee tables and a pot plant. He hurriedly tried to scoop up the soil but abandoned that as the Quicksnacks footsteps neared the living room. In a final attempt, he draped a cream Persian rug over the whole mess and taking the place on the lopsided sofa hoped for the best. Trying to appear casual, Vernon chirped a cheery greeting as Dudley led the Quicksnacks into room their eyebrows raised at the sight.

….

Harry- liberated from the confines of his ballooning trousers- bounded up the staircase with the grace of a gazelle. Reaching the top, he cast his eyes mournfully to the complex locks decorating his bedroom door. He tentatively reached for the handle but shot back, crashing loudly against the wall, as an electric shock zapped through his arm.

'Hagrid's hairy armpits!' He exclaimed trying (unsuccessfully) to compress his now extremely frizzy hair.

Huffing in frustration, he weighed up his options on how to spend the evening- he was in for a boring night. He could go play on Dudley's computer, Harry the Hamster was his favorite game, except the volume control was permanently on loud after Dudley whacked it with a spade. Or, he thought, he could draw abusive pictures of his supposed best friends; Ron, Hermione and Fang hadn't sent a single letter over the whole summer.

Harry's ears pricked as a peculiar chuckling sound caught his attention, it seemed to be coming from the Dursley's upstairs bathroom. He eyed the door suspiciously. Was this one of Dudley's booby traps? Concluding that he had nothing better to do, Harry slinked forward to investigate. He pressed his ear to the door, the sound of cheerful off key whistling filled his ears. _What in merlin's…?_ Gathering his Gryffindor courage, he grabbed the recently disinfected handle and swung it open, hopping he wouldn't be scared by whatever was going down inside.

'AAAAAHHHHHH!' Harry was immediately stuck by the piercing shriek. A squat creature with enormous eyes and bat-like ears sat on the Durley's expensive porcelain toilet seat. It had obviously been engrossed in one of Aunt Petunia's trashy magazines, as a pile of clippings and cutouts littered the otherwise spotless floor around him. 'DOBBY TIME! DOOBY TIME!'

Harry jerked back, still trying to process the scene in front of him. The _thing-_ squealed and fell right into the toilet bowl in his haste to zip up his pillowcase trousers (that's what they looked like anyway). Concluding it was some kind of mutated-and-never-before-seen household pest, Harry hastily pulled the leaver to try and flush it down, but this was a mistake. Whatever was in there seemed to be blocking the flow…

FLUSH… FLUSH… _'Arrgghhhhhhh!'_ Strange sounds were coming from the upstairs toilet as the Dursleys and the Quicksnacks sat in the haphazardly arranged room. Vernon cast a terrified glance at Petunia as Mrs. Quicksnack stared curiously at the ceiling.

'Ahh, nothing to worry about,' Petunia chirped, improvising, but failing due to her severe lack of imagination.

'No, no nothing at all…that's just our... extremely hygienic new dual flush toilet system—complete system degermify every twenty minutes…' Vernon jumped in hastily, feeling very pleased for his speedy recovery. Mrs. Quicksnack, looking satisfied, took out a pale blue clipboard and gave a box labeled 'lavatory status' obvious tick…

The water swirled in the bowl, a bony hand reached out from the depths of the disappearing sewage and flipped Harry the bird. It then clicked its fingers, and with a _snap_ , the water gurgled to a stop. Another click and the toilet exploded. The beast rocketed out of the bowl and flipped in midair, as if this were common practice. He landed on the mat and used his tiny hands to push the shell-shocked Harry from the room, slamming the door shut, inches from his nose. Harry blinked stupidly.

There were several seconds of silence before the bathroom door creaked open.

'Harry Potter! Dobby the House Elf is most honoured to meet you sir!' Harry stared back, unresponsive in his shock. The creature, or 'Dobby' bowed so deeply that his abnormally long nose bashed against the floor. A torrent of blood erupted from his nostrils. Horrified, the elf gasped at the mess, his eyes growing impossibly wide. Harry had only enough time to gulp before the house elf launched at him, wailing apologies and spraying blood and bogies everywhere.

'AAHHH! Get off!' Harry cried, trying to bat the elf away as Dobby flung his wiry arms around the neck of the Boy Who Lived, stopping his air supply. Great globs of ruby red splattered across the pristine white walls and- to Harry's horror, himself. Overbalanced as his trainers suddenly slipped in a bloody puddle, Harry crashed backwards into the bath.

'Dobby is sorry!' the elf wailed in an extremely high pitched voice from atop Harry's chest, the flow from his nose coming to a stop.

'Owww! Look what you did!' Harry screamed, spotting his blackeye in the mirror. Dobby did not seem to notice Harry's anger as he brushed himself off, unconcerned. His large bauble eyes latched onto Harry's as he began to speak:

'I am Dobby, sir. Dobby the House Elf.' He gave Harry another vigorous bow, almost stabbing him in the eye with his nose. 'I come to warn Harry Potter! Harry Potter must not come back to Hogwarts School.'

Harry blinked in surprise, 'What! Why?'

'Big evil follows every step!'

'That doesn't even make sense,' Harry protested as he scrambled to his feet, knocking Dobby onto the floor.

'Harry Potter must promise-' Dobby was interrupted by the sound of Uncle Vernon's animal like grunts as he made his way up the stairs. Dobby dashed from the room, screeching a final warning about history repeating itself. At the same time, every tap in the room seemed to burst, projecting jets of water everywhere, blasting Harry back into the tub, where he was soaked by more water projecting from the shower head. He groped for something to anchor himself to, finding a useless scrubbing brush, full of tooth paste, from the time Dudley had tried to clean all his teeth in one go.

At that moment, the door burst open and the beefy and deep rhubarb colored face of Uncle Vernon peered menacingly through the crack. This expression was quickly replaced with shock at the chaos displayed before him, and then outrage as he spotted Harry, pinned down by the flow of water in the tub, pathetically clutching a scrubbing brush and undoubtedly (from uncle Vernon's point of view) looking smug, like it was his ultimate goal to mess up his uncle's business.

'BOYYYY!' Uncle Vernon yelled as a pipe in the wall cracked under the pressure and exploded in his face, adding- very unfortunately- sewage to the drenched mess. Just then a the tart faces of Mr. and Mrs. Quicksnack poked around the door, undoubtedly hoping to see this wondrously advanced toilet system. Mrs. Quicksnack screamed as loud as the crazy creature had just before and bolted for the door. Mr. Quicksnack looked as if he was about to give uncle Vernon a piece of his mind, but seeing his livid face, merely muttered something about a 'change in confectionary preferences' and made a dash after his hysterical wife. Barely a minute later the sound of their car squealing down the road was heard, followed by the angry shouts of various Private drive neighbor's as their car left the god-forbidden 'skid-marks of shame' on the smooth and beloved tarmac of privet drive (this was indeed a severe crime, as many of the privet drive residents took great care to vacuum their section of the road each morning).

Uncle Vernon turned to Harry, face contorted in rage and looking as if he was ready to strangle his nephew alive, when all of a sudden, a handsome tawny owl flew through the now smashed bathroom window, bearing a purple letter with the official ministry seal on it. The owl, apparently from shock, seemed to temporarily faint at the sight of the mess and imperiously dropped the letter in the sink, before sweeping back out the window. Harry hurriedly got out of the bath once more and turned off all the taps (the pipe in the wall had finally stopped spraying sewage). He made to reach for the letter in the sink, but to his surprise found Uncle Vernon- sworn hater of all things wizard- clutching the very offensive letter in his sausage-like hands, A sneer on his face.

'Read it.' He snarled, 'then go to your room and don't ever come out.' Harry started to explain about the retina scanner again, but his uncle booted him out of the room and flung the soaking letter after him. He stood in the hallway and, glad to have some mail for once, read the letter…

 _Dear Mr. H Potter,_

 _It has come to our attention that a lavatory unblocking charm was used at your residence at eighteen minutes past seven this evening. We wish to inform you that, no matter how big the blockage, use of this charm is a serious breach of the reasonable restriction for the use of under aged sorcery and has therefore earned you an official warning. Any more magic use whilst you are under aged may result in your expulsion from Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

 _Sincerely,_

 _Madam Snickery,_

 _Magical law dept._

 _Ministry of Magic_

'That's not fair!' Harry cried miserably. 'It was that weird creature that did it! I don't even know unblocking charms!' At this, Uncle Vernon came hurtling out of the bathroom, where he had been scrubbing his waste-ridden face in the sink and forced Harry into his room, which he quickly unlocked with the blink of an eye.

'Never again BOY!' he spat at his nephew as he left the room. 'You can stay here till you die and turn into something useful!'

Harry heaved a sigh. This was, without a doubt the worst summer ever.


	2. Weasels Rumbled

Fred stealthily guided the car through the clouds, ducking and weaving clear patches to avoid being spotted by the Muggles below. Charlie consulted the map book.

'It's coming up here...' The street of Private Drive loomed beneath the six Weasley boys as Fred lowered the car and George lent out the open window to check the house numbers.

'One…two…three…there it is Freddie, top left hand window… looks like he's asleep.' Fred expertly parallel parked beside the locked window. Ron leant out and gestured for Percy to hand him Charlie's _Dragon Scout_ handbook to light a flint fire on the sill. Next, George passed Ron a small vial of purple substance and he poured a drop on the cheery flame, turning it bright blue. The bars and window panes melted away. The brothers slithered in through the newly formed hole and arrived in Harry's shamefully messy bedroom. Ron snapped a couple of pictures on his camera phone for a backup argument next time Mrs. Weasley asked him to clean his room. Bill crept over to the bed and checked the sleeping form of Harry.

'Yep, fast asleep, god he's still in his clothes, and look at all this rubbish!' he screwed up his nose as he trod on a sardine can.

'Quickly, out here!' Fred whispered and they all huddled around the door as he used a 'modified' pocket knife to saw off Harry's door handle. It fell off and Charlie pocketed the doorknob- muttering something about market prices, and the six brothers crept out onto the landing.

'Alright Weasels! Remember the plan!' said George, addressing the group, 'Ron, Perc, AKA team Weasley two, stay here on the landing to guard. Charlie, your team Weasely three- get back in the car, you're not supposed to be in the house. Bill- Weasely four- get into that fat cousin of Harry's room, apparently, he had an X-box. Fred with me, we're Team one of course. We'll all meet here in two minutes, then it's all back in the car and off to home- remember to make room for the broomstick.' Fred and George scurried down the stairs, Bill proceeded down the hall and a disheveled Charlie trudged back through Harry's room to the car, muttering under his breath about under-appreciation. In his carelessness, he tripped on a pair of massive pants strewn across the floor and fell with a thundering crash, which woke up Harry.

'Alert! Alert! We've been rumbled! Retreat!' Percy hollered. Bill came sprinting out of Dudley's room clutching a portable fan. Fred and George came charging up the stairs, dragging Harry's whole trunk, clearly having no time to unlock it and retrieve the broomstick in question. All five made a dash for the window, where Charlie sat in the idling car. They dived into the back seat and were speeding away from Private drive in no time, the screams of Harry's aunt and uncle echoing in the distance.

'Hi-fives all 'round Weasely's!' Fred cried cheerfully, they laughed as they all congratulated each other- first Bill slapped Ron on the back, then Percy pompously shook everyone's hand whilst George ruffled Fred's hair and Harry danced in the front seat…

'Urghh, Weasely's… we have a problem…' Ron whispered loudly, gesturing towards Harry, who seemed to have slipped into the car unnoticed in the rush to escape.

'Awesome plan guys!' he said, much to the Weasley's bewilderment, 'thanks for rescuing me from that dump!' the brothers exchanged silent looks, as comprehension dawned. Harry clearly thought they had come to break him out of Dursley prison.

'I like that story,' said Fred, 'Let's stick with it.' Ron nodded in agreement, there was no reason why Harry had to know they were only there to steal his Nimbus 2000.

Fred parked the car on home turf, next to the pig pen. Harry skipped merrily out of the front seat, whilst the rest of the Weasleys trudged grudgingly behind. Mrs. Weasley was going to kill them. Fred and George had their heads bowed, plotting a cover story-

'Just act all surprised, like we don't know he's here…'

'We could stash him in the attic with the ghoul…'

'We could say he came with the post…'

'Tunneled here from London?' they both seemed to know it was a lost cause. Their mutterings were drowned out by an argument that had sprung up between the two elder Weasleys at the back of the group.

'I told you Charlie, enough is enough, you can't keep taking them home- we all know you don't actually sell them! First dragons, now this!' Bill raged. Charlie glowered at him, eye twitching and clutching Harry's door knob- freshly polished- to his chest.

'Lay off bro, I can stop collecting any time I want!' He cried, unfortunately just then his magically expanded bag burst at the seams. Charlie squealed in actual panic. Everyone turned as Bill was knocked to ground by the force of a thousand door knobs exploding from Charlie's bag. He lay there flabbergasted gasping for breath.

Percy turned away muttering and hiding his face in shame, 'What would the minister say?'

A far distanced away from the boiling point, Harry was frolicking in the grass, accompanied by a quintet of potato like gnomes blissfully unaware of the family drama. Bill's eyes shot open his face mutinous.

'THAT IS IT CHARLIE! The FINAL straw!' His voice unusually high with tension, 'I refuse to share a ROOM with you! No wait, scratch that I refuse to BREATHE the same AIR as you!' Completely oblivious, Charlie scrambled around the dirt gathering his precious cargo, stuffing them in to any pocket or crevasse in his hand-me-down clothing. Percy seemed to shoot back to reality.

'Hey they'll be my clothes next so be delicate!' This was however drowned out by Bill's continuous rantings.

'YES, I WOULD MUCH PREFER TO MARRY A PILE OF PLEGM, LIVE IN A ONE ROOMED SHELL ON A RAGING CLIFF SURROUNDED BY NOTHING BUT SHARK INFESTED WATERS!'

He scrambled into standing position- doorknobs flying everywhere. Ron watched wearily as one flew in an ark over Fred's head and knocked over a potted gooseberry bush. The plant landed on the doormat and triggered the pressure pad secretly obscured beneath it.

 _'Oh, no no no…'_ George cursed under his breath. Just then all hell seemed to break loose as the burglar alarm activated…

 _'Five, six, seven, eight-'_ BOOM! The gnomes and Harry froze halfway through a Mexican wave.

'Sweet potata!' one exclaimed 'Time to fly bruva's! Don't wanna get caught breaking it down on someone else's dance floor again- especially the red one.' One particularly robust gnome wearing a gold plastic dollar sign around its neck gave Harry the peace sign, then followed his gang through a hole in the fence.

'Catch you on da flip side of town yo!'

Harry sighed as they disappeared. He would miss them...

Suddenly a blinding light pieced Harry's eyes like a knife, he blinked as he adjusted to the illumination, it was coming from what appeared to be several large watch towers located strategically around the perimeter of the garden. Harry had only just comprehended this when he was bowled over by Ron, who was sprinting for cover and wailing about something called 'Big W'. Knocked to the ground, he only had a second to roll out of the way as what appeared to be a giant knitted cage dropped from the heavens, imprisoning everyone except Charlie- who was having a standoff with a nesting mother hen that had taken a liking to one of his 'precious' doorknobs. Bill was not technically trapped, but had become entangled by his hair in a nearby prickly shrub and was sobbing for mercy.

Percy, standing with arms crossed inside the cage, rolled his eyes at the entire family charade, 'Always the theatrics.'

Through a gap in the stitching, Harry saw a small hatch in the front door open. Two hazel eyes peered out.

'They're back!' the front door opened and a small red-headed girl dressed in flying gear ran out. 'Is it here? Is it here?' she cried excitedly.

'Uh...' Fred began, but at that moment a menacing figure appeared in the doorway, fog and mist billowing around her ankles.

'Well?' Mrs. Weasley asked ominously. She was hardcore, wearing tattered clothing and a knitted general's cap. Trotting behind her on a short leather leash was the family ghoul.

'WHAT TIME DO YOU CALL THIS?' she exploded 'EXPLAIN YOURSELVES!'

'We err, encountered some un-conceived troubles…' George hinted, nodding in Harry's direction.

'It's Potter, the rich one.' Ron muttered, behind his hand, which Harry took to be a compliment. Mrs. Weasely- or 'Big W' smiled affectionately at Harry.

'Ahh welcome Harry dear, please do come in- naturally this whole ordeal is not your fault.' She took out a pair of sheers and fashioned a sizable hole in the cage, then, she turned her wand towards Bill, who seemed to immediately become disentangled from the shrub.

Happily, Harry skipped towards the front door, followed by the rather sullen-looking Weasley brothers. Big W ushered Harry into the kitchen, stuffing a cream puff and three loaves of bread into his hands. She lead him up about twenty flights of stairs and into the ugliest bedroom Harry had ever seen, though, it was still an improvement from Dursley-prison. Everything in the room was a violent shade of orange and someone had stuck a collage of a crown to the wall, made of empty crisp packets. Seeing the crown, Harry could only assume this to be the royal suite, and, with a satisfied sigh he swung himself onto the rickety, orange bed and slipped into a contented slumber.

The creaking on the staircase grew louder and louder as Mrs. Weasley approached the kitchen. Her shadow loomed ominously in the doorway and the Weasleys braced themselves for what was sure to be the reprimand of a lifetime.

'Stay strong brothers,' Fred muttered is her rage infilled figure appeared on the threshold, surveying the cowering forms of her sons.

The sight was too much for Charlie, who squealed and dived behind the sofa. Fred and George exchanged looks of terror and took off through the back door whilst Ron and Percy simultaneously raced for the pantry. Percy, after winning a hasty game of paper, scissors, rock, shoved Ron back out into the kitchen. A deadly place to be at present.

'Well, well, well,' she said, hands on hips. 'Sacks empty. No broomstick. Your sister is absolutely distraught!'

Ron cowered under her menacing gaze. Bill, who had frozen in his mother's petrifying presence, suddenly whipped out the portable fan he had nicked from the Durley's.

'You can have this Ginny,' he said encouragingly, 'Just blow it on your face- it'll be exactly like flying!' Ginny- and Charlie, who stuck out his head from under the sofa, looked absolutely disgusted at their brother.

'What will your Father think? Haven't we raised you better than this?' Mrs. Weasley scolded. The ghoul gave a wail of agreement. Mrs. Weasley gave it an approving pat and tossed it a ghoul snack. 'Seeing as you bought home a stray, one of you will have to sleep in the hen coop tonight as all the beds will be filled.' There was a blur of red as all the Weasleys raced for a place to sleep. Bill and Charlie, being of age, simply apparated to their room, whilst Fred and George attempted to scale the outer wall to avoid the congestion on the stairs. Ron tried to shove Percy back into the pantry but missed. Instead, Percy dodged around him and locking his younger brother in with a triumphant grin. Accepting his fate, Ron cleared a shelf and rested his head on a huge bag of flour. Begrudgingly, he thought of Harry nestled comfortably between the sheets of his Chuddley Cannons bed. At least, he thought, he had supplies to make him through the night.


	3. The Burrow

After a luxurious slumber in Ron's bed, Harry awoke the next morning feeling refreshed and optimistic. He was free from the Dursley's! He leaped from the bed so enthusiastically that the whole house trembled and pranced merrily down the stairs to the kitchen where he found all the Weasleys gathered around the table. None of them appeared to be as chipper as Harry- indeed, whilst Mrs. Weasley loaded Harry and Ginny's plates with an assortment of mushrooms, eggs, sausages and bacon; the Weasley brothers were staring miserably at the single boiled egg placed in front of them to share.

Just then there was a cheery tap on one of the kitchen windows. Harry turned and to his surprise, saw a pixie riding a barn owl poised on the sill. The pixie cleared its voice and began to sing (to the tune of _Happy Birthday_ ):

' _Merry morning to you! On the 28_ _th_ _of June!_

 _Let me sing you your ma-il,_

 _As you pay me to do!'_

'Percy!' Mrs Weasley cried in annoyance, "I told you weeks ago to cancel that subscription to musical post! It costs a fortune and means that I have the water bill stuck in my head for the rest of the day!"

" _Compliments of the day,_

 _To Ronald Weas-lay!_

 _Please note that the school term-_

 _Will commence next Thursday!'_

The pixie continued to chant over Mrs. Weasley's complaints:

' _Your books will cost lots,_

 _But without them you're lost,_

 _Get in quick or you'll miss out_

 _(sponsored by Flourish and Blotts)'_

'What!' Ron cried in dismay, "I thought we had weeks before the new school term starts!', he stabbed at the boiled egg angrily, sending it bouncing down the table and into Charlie's mouth, who grinned happily as he swallowed it whole. A scuffle broke out as George grabbed Charlie round the waist and started performing the Heimlich maneuver. Fred, also annoyed, vented his own frustration by grabbing the rest of the mail, then lobbing the still-singing creature out into the garden.

' _Get your robed fitted fast!_

 _Buy the best and they'll last!_

 _Nothing beats Madam Malkin's,_

 _if you want to look smart- arghhhhhhh…'_ the squeal faded into the distance as Fred distributed the pile of letters to their intended recipients.

'I believe this is yours,' said Fred with a look of disgust as he flung Percy a glossy magazine titled _My Magical Ministry._ A headline featured on the cover read:

 _Who would be your ministerial BFF? Take our quiz and find out!_

Percy snatched up the magazine and began riffling feverishly through the pages.

'Looks like Hogwarts letters have arrived,' Fred continued as he passed a thick yellowish envelope to Ron. 'That's weird, they seem to have sent us Harry's letter too. It even says where he slept last night…'

'What? Don't yours?' Harry asked. He peered across at Ron's letter only to see the very

vague description of _Burrow_ on the address. Harry wasn't sure what to think of this as he read the emerald green address scrawled across his own envelope:

 _Mr. H. Potter_

 _Hand-me-down Blue Stripped Pajamas,_

 _Ricketiest Bed, the Attic a.k.a Ronald Weasley's/ the Goul's Bedroom,_

 _The Burrow_

'I think Mum assigned the booklist,' George said in disgust, breaking Harry from his train of thought, 'It's all Lockhart books. And _this_!' He waved a signed photograph of a toothy wizard for them all to see. The wizard winked at them impishly, giving a hearty chuckle with lots of teeth.

'Let me see that,' Mrs. Weasley said, snatching it from George's outstretched hand.

'Why is this essential for class?' Ron exclaimed, taking out his own signed picture. Harry, who liked to take his time while opening mail, carefully removed the chewed stick from Fang and pulled out the booklist:

 _Second years will require the following titles:_

 _Charms for the Charming, By Gilderoy Lockhart_

 _Curse Me! I'm Cute, By Gilderoy Lockhart_

 _Enchantments for the Enchanting a.k.a Me, Gilderoy, By Gilderoy Lockhart_

 _Spells for the Stunning (also me, Gilderoy), By Gilderoy Lockhart_

 _Gilderoy's Guide to Advanced Transfiguration, By Gilderoy Lockhart_

 _Making Children Learn Good, By Gilderoy Lockhart_

 _Goblin Sword Makin' for Dummies, By Rubeus Hagrid_

 _Standard book of Pumpkin Patches Grade Two, By Rubeus Hagrid_

 _Ragons! Rot Nrot To Do, By Fang_

 _The World's Most Dangerous Potions to Brew for the Unexperienced, By Podrick Puddle_

 _The Night Sky and Where to Find It, By Wormy Prongsfoot_

 _394 Plain Scone Recipes to Try at Home, By The Half Baked Prince_

 _Seven, maybe Eight Ways to Keep Ya Soul Singin'. A wellbeing book by Auntie V_

'I never knew Hagrid was so intellectual,' Ron mused, surveying his own booklist.

'Well I guess he needs something to do over the summer,' Harry replied with a mouth full of beans.

'I didn't sign up for any of these classes!' Percy cried in dismay, 'How will _Goblin Sword Makin'_ set me up for a Ministry career?'

'I'm sure Dumbledore knows what he's doing Sweetie,' Mrs. Weasley comforted, as she moved a baby photo of Ron to make room for Gilderoy's portrait on the mantle.

'Is that supposed to be a book on dragons?' Charlie asked enviously. 'Who wrote that?'

'And since when does Hogwarts teach baking?' Bill inquired skeptically.

Before anyone could answer, a lanky balding man somersaulted head first out of the fireplace, twirling on the spot in a cloud of ash.

'Dad!' Ginny cried scurrying over to hug father.

'Morning kids!' Mr. Weasley greeted cheerily, as he kissed her on the head. 'What a night! Nine raids- nine!' he emphasized as he plonked a large sack on the table. Mrs. Weasley shoved a plate of eggs into his hands. Harry, who was on his third helping of sausages, eyed the sack suspiciously. He was sure he saw it tremble.

'The same can't be said for your sons last night Arthur!' Mrs. Weasley said with a scowl. The six brothers squirmed guiltily in their seats. Harry tried to shoot Ron a questioning look, but the red head seemed to take a sudden interest in his empty plate.

'I had a successful night Dad,' said Ginny proudly, showing off her flying outfit. 'Me and the ghoul managed to wrangle this from the neighbors over the hill.' On closer examination Harry noticed that the striped yellow and black quidditch robes were the same design as his seeker uniform. He could just make out the pointy nose of a badger and the letters D-I stitched on the back.

'Well done Ginny dear,' Mr. Weasley praised. 'We're all very proud- aren't we boys?'

Charlie grunted in agreement, polishing a doorknob and Ron rolled his eyes in irritation.

'Unfortunately, it turned out I wasted my time as my so called _brothers_ couldn't deliver the goods!' Ginny said angrily. Harry tilted his head in confusion- lost.

'Now, now! What do I always say kids?' Mr. Weasley asked.

'Even with an empty sack, from every raid you bring something back,' they chorused with varying degrees of enthusiasm.

'Yes, that couldn't be more true,' said Mrs. Weasley as she handed Harry more toast.

'Right!' said Mr. Weasley, breaking the silence and eagerly rubbing his hands together, 'Time to distribute the haul!' He reached into to the sack and pulled out the first item.

'Bill,' the eldest Weasley sat up straighter, 'I found you this official Ministry approved paperclip.' Mr. Weasley handed it over to his confused looking son. He continued to hand his children what Harry could only assume to be random items found around the Ministry. Charlie contently polished his new doorknob from the department of mysteries, whilst Fred and George prodded curiously at a strange object from experimental charms. Percy kept throwing jealous looks at Ginny in her new, lime green bowler hat.

'This is old Mad-eye's hip flask Ron- not sure what's in it,' Mr. Weasley chuckled bemused, as he ruffled his sons hair. He turned to Harry who blinked up at him expectantly.

'Err… I got you Kingsley's fez… son,' he said to Harry hesitantly.

'That's Harry Potter, Arthur,' Mrs. Weasley said hands on hips, 'your sons bought him home last night.'

'Did you really?' Arthur exclaimed, leaning across the table to examine Harry closer, 'Seems in good condition!' Harry nodded in agreement, the Fez tassel bobbing merrily. This summer was really picking up!

'Where are we going get our school things Dad? I've never even heard of half of these books!' Percy asked brandishing the booklist. Mr. Weasley put on his spectacles and paused to examine the document.

'Well, there's only one place we can find all this,' Mr. Weasley said, taking a humongous bite from a corn cob, 'Malfoy Manor.'

The rest of the morning passed quickly. Mrs. Weasley kept them all busy by assigning chores to everyone except for Harry, who had a pleasant time reclined in a deck chair by the chicken coop, sipping ice cold lemonade from a curly straw. By the time lunch rolled around, the seven siblings were exhausted. Bill- who Harry had just watched cleaning out the chicken coop, was covered in feathers from head to foot, and sat down heavily at the kitchen table.

'That was horrible!' He cried, crinkling his nose in disdain. 'I don't think that place has been cleaned since I left home.' He pulled a feather out from behind his ear.

Suddenly, a rumbling sound issued from the fireplace and two pairs of feet appeared on the hearth. These were quickly followed by the sooty figures of Fred and George who had been assigned the task of cleaning the chimney.

'I don't think I'm going to taste anything but soot from the rest of my days,' Fred proclaimed shaking ash from his fiery red hair. George nodded in agreement attempting to rub soot from inside his ear. Ron, Ginny and Charlie each trudged down the staircase. They were all soaked to the skin, having just bathed the ghoul. Harry listened as they complained loudly- apparently the ghoul had thrown a tantrum about the limited range of shampoos to choose from, expressing his frustration by over-turning the bath tub. They were interrupted in their grumbles, by Percy and Mrs. Weasley, who placed large plates of sandwiches on the table. They were just about to tuck in when they heard a crash.

The mail pixie, bloodthirsty for revenge and now sporting a bandaged head, smashed through the closed window overlooking the corn field and swooped low over their heads atop an equally angry looking owl. It snatched up the open letters from the table and tried to yank Percy's magazine from his grasp. Failing at this, it spied the signed Lockhart portrait on the mantle and took that with a nasty cackle. The owl did a final swoop around the room, cawing in victory as it bombed the sandwiches with owl droppings, before finally smashing through another window to exit. The pixie's triumphant laughter faded into the distance. Mrs. Weasley furiously banished the now inedible sandwiches and sent her children (and Harry) away with a bag of carrots to 'de-gnome the garden'.

'Bloody hell! Am I a child or a House Elf?' said Ron as he exited the kitchen into the yard. Harry squinted as the harsh sunlight hit his eyes.

'We only did it last week!' Percy added snottily as- to Harry's surprise, he turned away from the hedged garden and headed in the direction of the large shed. A tattered banner hung across the front reading; _Weasley Emporium- not blackmarket_ , in big red letters.

'Dad's out of control- I swear these nightly raids are going to kill me.' George moaned, unbolting the heavy door. It swung open to reveal an unbelievable scene. A huge table in the middle of the shed dominated the space. Brightly lit shelves lined the walls, highlighting the plethora of items on display. In one corner of the shed, the walls were plastered with posters promoting the 'Manager's Special'. To the left of Harry, were a series of miss-matched supermarket checkouts that looked like they'd been salvaged from multiple stores, they were each manned by a gnome wearing a brightly coloured apron and matching hat. At the sight of the Weasleys, a particularly large gnome sporting a shiny managers badge hurried forward to attention. It addressed each of the children in turn.

'Ms. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, Mr. Weasley, and…' it turned to Harry, 'guest.'

George addressed the gnome 'A staff meeting, if you will Russell.'

The podgy manager pulled out a big red whistle from somewhere on his person. Harry couldn't be exactly sure where- as the gnomes uniform didn't seem to have pockets. The shrill sound of the whistle pierced the air in three short bursts. Suddenly the ground beneath Harry's feet began to shake as a stampede of gnomes appeared from every crevice of the room. They crawled out from under lamp shapes and hats, boxes on the floor- Harry even saw a few emerge from under the doormat on which he had wiped his feet on the way in. All at once a hundred pairs of eyes were staring up him and the Weasleys expectantly. With a tear in his eye, Harry recognised a couple of the gnomes from his dance crew and gave them a small wave- he received a head nod and peace sign in return.

'Alright, listen up chumps!' Fred called out to the crowd, 'We've had word from the higher ups that they are concerned about the turnover rate of the stock.'

The gnomes were assembled in a long line, Percy stepped forwards and started to pace up and down. 'We've got the summer stock rolling in and we can't have the store full of last seasons' merchandise- I mean, these Quibblers should have been cleared out weeks ago!' He pointed to a stack of magazines on a display shelf, emboldened with the shocking title _Fudge's secret flobberworm farm. 'They're eating us out of the ministry!'_

'What would sir like us to do?' asked the manager gnome, hurrying up to Percy with a clip board. 'Perhaps another Big Bonanza sale?'

'I want YOU to stop hiring all your gnome cousins! There's at least 100 new employees here since last week!'

The Manager grimaced sheepishly, 'Just a couple o' rellies from over the hill sir, they need summer jobs for their college resumes. Jeffry here's applying for a Hip Hop scholarship.' Jeffry dropped to the floor in a head spin, then started doing the worm. Harry and the other gnome workers applauded.

'We're not running a summer intern program Russell! Everyone who ISN'T as official employee needs to leave! Now!' at least half the gnomes ruefully ran over to a large corkboard covered in paper slips. They each took a time-card and punched out, then headed for the door. A couple of the younger ones grabbed their scooters on the way out.

Percy turned back to the remaining gnomes, 'And from now on, all new staff appointments will be placed through me. Now get back to work!' He turned and walked out of the shed, the other Weasley's following behind. Harry stepped forwards to catch up with Ron, who was trying out one of the scooters that a gnome had left behind. It was barely large enough to fit his foot. 'Do you reckon dad will enlarge this for me?'

Harry wasn't listening, 'Do you feel mean firing all those gnomes?' He asked.

'Nah, they love getting caught.' Ron replied, 'It gives them street cred in the dance crews, and besides, Percy loves the power.'

One by one the Weasleys (and Harry) re-entered the kitchen to find Mrs. Weasley rummaging around the fireplace.

'We're almost out of Floo Powder,' she stated as she shook the last of the emerald green substance in the small flower pot. 'Remind me to pick some up at the Malfoy's Ron.'

'Why me?' Ron huffed.

'Because you're designated look out.'

'What that's Ginny's job! I'm way too skilled for that!' Ron replied, the tops of his ears turning pink.

'Yes, well- after the… incident during your last assignment,' Mrs. Weasley countered with a sideways glance towards Harry, 'Your Father and I thought it would be best if you took a less active roll.' Ron looked sulky as he was passed the bag of what Harry assumed to be 'Floo Powder.'

'It could be worse son!' Mr Weasley added cheerily, 'Charlie's been put under house arrest until he can kick the door knob habit,' he gestured towards the chicken coop where Harry could see Charlie staring forlornly through the wire mesh at the shed door handle. 'Luckily we have a replacement.' he said patting Harry on the shoulder.

'Who me?' Harry asked in surprise.

nodded in confirmation, 'Of course Harry, my dear. Now have you ever used Floo Powder before?'

At Harry's mystified expression she launched into a ten minute lecture on Floo travel basics. Harry- who was so used to his Aunt and Uncle's lectures- automatically tuned out, and only realised he'd missed something important as Bill pushed him into the fireplace.

'Say the name Harry- Malfoy Manor, nice and clearly now.' Mr. Weasley urged.

'Wait we're going to _Draco's place-_ AHH!' suddenly the fire roared up in emerald green flames. Harry only had time to comprehend eight pairs of wide, horror filled eyes staring at him as he was swept away.


	4. Madness at the Malfoys'

Spinning and lurching left and right, Harry rolled around bewilderedly as he plummeted through the flew network. Eyes wide open, he saw flashes of multiple wizarding lounge rooms, catching many a witch or wizard midway through various activities, including one wizard, donned in robes of fluro lycra, midway through his _Anaerobus Pyruvus's Athletic Aerobics routine (get buns as hard as a mountain troll's!)._ He got jabbed twice in the elbow by people stoking their fires with sharp pokers, and scrubbed once in the face by a very sooty chimney sweep.

Finally, with a _woosh_ and a lot of soot, Harry shot out of the fireplace and lay, sprawled on polished wooden floorboards. Getting to his feet, Harry squinted through his sooty glasses at the room. From what he could see, it was the biggest, most decadent room he has ever been in, with a high ceiling and emerald drapes on the walls. In the center of the room was a huge, king-sized waterbed, which was covered in a bedspread of a large, fancy 'M'. Along one wall was a large, ornate window that looked out over dewy grass gardens. On the opposite wall was the fireplace from which Harry had sprung. Moving closer, he could make out a collection of framed pictures adorning the mantle. Hastily wiping his lenses on one of the silk drapes, he peered at the pictures closely to make out their occupants. What he saw made his heart drop to his stomach. Malfoy. They were all pictures of Draco Malfoy! Draco shaking hands with the Minister of Magic, Draco smirking besides a tall, muscular man in _Tornadoes_ Quidditch robes holding a broomstick, Draco standing beside a mountain of presents and wearing a party hat and a badge that read 'Happy Birthday Son!' beside it was a card that read 'Dear son, you are now 12. I was pleased to note that your hair is whitening nicely with adolescence. Keep up the good work. Father.' Harry looked away in disgust, thinking of all the birthdays for which he had received nothing more than extra chores! And never would he dream of getting a crummy birthday message from the Dursleys, complimenting him on his hair.

'Come up here Crabbe, I'll show you the gift that Father just got me!' Draco's voice suddenly appeared outside the door. Harry froze in panic, he could not think what would happen if Malfoy found him in his bedroom. Looking around frantically, he saw an ornately carved doll house, about the same size as Harry and painted pastel in the corner of the room. He dashed over to it and dived inside, pulling the small front door closed just as Draco strutted into the room, followed by a sullen Crabbe. Harry peered carefully through the miniature drapes of an upstairs window at them. Both were dripping wet and dressed in swimming trunks.

'See, here!' said, Malfoy, striding across the room to the window sill, where a tank of water sat in the sun. 'Sea monkeys! Father got them for me as a reward for my school report.' he puffed out his chest, '50% pass you know!'

Crabbe peered at the tank and looked dopily at Malfoy. 'I don't see no monkeys. Why'd you leave the lid off?'

'They're shrimp you troll!' Malfoy cried exasperatedly, rolling his eyes. 'Microscopic! Invisible to the naked eye!'

'How'd you know they're there then?' replied Crabbe, looking as though anything that claimed to be too small to see was likely a made-up ploy.

'Father said they were! And look!' Malfoy pulled a turkey drumstick out of nowhere and dropped it into the tank with a splash. It floated suspended in the water for a moment, then, in a heartbeat, the flesh disappeared, leaving nothing but the bone.

'Carnivorous.' Malfoy said lazily, 'boy would I love to dunk Weasley's head in here.' he added with a laugh.

'Weasley wouldn't fit in there,' Crabbe stated measuring the tank with his hands. 'That tank is tiny.'

'Well they hardly need a lot of space,' Malfoy drawled, 'seeing as they're microscopic.' He looked at the tank with relish, then grabbed a glass and scooped some water out of the tank, turning towards the door.

'Let's go and see what happens when we feed a sea monkey to one of the piranhas in the lake.'

Harry waited a minute until they were gone before tumbling out of the house, gagging as he landed face-first in the shaggy white carpet on the floor.

'Urgh, Crabbe's feet touched that!' he moaned to himself as he got up.

He popped a pepper imp (supplied by George) into his mouth to rid it of the taste of socks. _Ahh minty fresh_.

Seeing as it sounded like Malfoy would be gone for a while, Harry decided to have a peek around his room for anything incriminating to be used against him during the school year. In Malfoy's bedside draw, Harry was horrified to find a thick notebook labelled- _the Malfoy Collection,_ completely filled with sketches... of him! Harry in springtime attire- standing next to a hippogriff with a riding crop. Adventure Harry, sporting stylish safari get up with one foot resting on the head of a slain dragon. A particularly creepy section depicted Harry adorning a variety of sleepwear, in a bed eerily similar to Harry's own. He was actually quite impressed by the quidditch section and ripped out a few designs so that Mrs Weasley could knit them for him.

Getting a bit peckish now from all the snooping, Harry slipped out of Draco's room to find the kitchen. The only problem was that Draco's door opened to the outside. Taken aback Harry surveyed his surroundings. He was not as he had originally thought, in Malfoy Manor at all, but a small one roomed cabin situated on the opposite side of a large lake. The Manor itself was obscured from view by a large ring of menacing pine trees and spiky shrubs. He could see Draco and Crabbe lounging on blow up banana boats not far from the shore. He thought that Malfoy's scaled swimming trunks were very similar to a design in the Malfoy Collection. Crouched behind some bushes Harry started to worry. It didn't look like Malfoy and Crabbe were moving anytime soon and he had no idea how to get across the lake and into the Manor where the rest of the Weasley's were. Just then, a large blow to his shoulder nearly sent him tumbling off his feet and into the water.

''Arry? What are ya doin' 'ere?'

'Hagrid!' Harry yelped.

Somehow the large giant of a man had managed to creep up on him through the dense woodland. Miraculously, Malfoy and Crabbe were in the middle of an intense underwater handstand competition and did not hear Harry's cry.

'Skulkin' round the Malfoy estate Harry, I never thought you'd be the type.' Hagrid continued in his booming voice.

'I was err, lost!' Harry replied quickly, glancing nervously back towards the lake, where Malfoy's and Crabbe's legs were still sticking up out of the water.

'Ahh well, happens to the best of us I s'pose' Hagrid sighed, 'Come on, I'm heading to the west gate, we can figure out what to do with yeh once were off the property'

Hagrid strode purposefully off towards a row of tall hedges lining one side of the lake. Harry hurried after him, figuring that finding out a way to get back to the burrow later was far preferable to being caught 'skulkin'' by Malfoy. He heard a loud splashing sound and whipped around. Malfoy's pale skinny legs were now flailing around, trying to kick Crabbe's stubby ones. He turned back to Hagrid as a thought struck him,

'Hagrid, what were _you_ doing at the Malfoy's?'

'Oh, errr I was… I was just lookin for some flesh eatin' slug repellent." Hagrid replied, 'They're ruinin' all the school asparagus.'

'And the Malfoys..' Harry began, even more confused.

'Oh, I got a connection with one o' the staff, 'e offered t' do me a favour since me supply was gettin' low… Well, here we are Harry,' They had arrived at a small iron gate at the corner of the property, the kind designed for gardeners to slip in and out of without ruining the Malfoy's image.

They slipped out through the gate (Hagrid taking a few attempts), and made their way around the street outside to the large entrance gates, where Hagrid's motorbike was parked.

'Arrghh blast them muggle copper's' Hagrid moaned as he saw a parking ticket fluttering from the bike's windshield, 'I was only a smidge late, didn't have enough muggle money on me t' plug the meter fer the full hour.'

He extracted the ticket and frowned at it for a second, then crumpled it up and tossed it over his shoulder. 'Ahh well, bikes not in me own name anyway, they'll have a right hard time tryn' t' track down Sirius Black.'

Harry was only half listening to this spiel. He was beginning to seriously worry about how he was going to meet up with the Weasleys when something caught his eye. Looking through the vast wrought iron gates at the actual Malfoy Manor, he caught sight of several red headed figures on the grass beside one of the stone walls. They were running around, positioning themselves below a second-story window, while above them, one of the Weasley's was lowering what looked like an enormous sack down towards the ground. Mr. Weasley, directing the descent of the sack through a series of hand signals. Bidding Hagrid farewell Harry slithered through the wrought iron bars and scooted off through the rose gardens towards the Weasleys.

'Harry!' Mrs. Weasley whispered when she saw him, 'We hoped you'd only gone one grate too far!'

The sack hit the ground with a thud and the Weasley children scampered down the rope left behind.

'Where did you come out?' Ron asked.

'I think I was in Malfoy's bedroom!' Harry replied grimly.

'Brilliant!' said Fred and George together.

'We've never been allowed in.' Ron said enviously.

'Guess who I saw down there,' Harry said to Ron, 'Hagrid!'

'Was he picking up anything?' Mr Weasley asked sharply as he pulled out a rather expensive looking emerald encrusted spoon.

'I don't think so,' Harry replied, 'He just said something about flesh eating slug repellent.'

'Ahh of course,' Mr. Weasley sighed, 'That's a very niche market, just as long as he sticks to it I don't mind.'

He prodded the spoon with his wand and it began to glow with a blue light. 'Quickly now kids! Gather round or you'll miss your ride home.'

The sudden chaos that ensued took Harry by surprise as all of the Weasleys scrambled for a place around the spoon.

'Why'd you have to make the portkey so small dad?' Charlie asked in an exasperated voice, 'Don't you remember the time you left me in Romania! And you left Bill in Egypt!'

'We needed someone to keep an eye on that treasure,' Mrs. Weasley replied reasonably.

The spoon began to shudder as the glow became brighter. Everyone jostled around and leaned in to touch a piece of the spoon, fighting over who got to hold onto the emeralds.

'Hurry up Harry!' Ron cried. Harry plunged his hand forwards into the pile-up and managed to find a section of unoccupied silver.

'Three, two one, NOW!'

With a flash of blue and a jerking sensation somewhere behind his navel, Harry and the Weasleys were rocketed away from the gardens of Malfoy Manor. Harry was feeling extremely claustrophobic with the rest of the Weasleys pressing in on him. Mr Weasley's loot bag was banging him on the head as they flew.

Harry was beginning to feel queasy when all of a sudden he landed heavily on the patched carpet of the burrow livingroom floor.

'What just happened?' He gasped, shoving Ron off of his back legs.

'Oh, right!' Ron said with a look of comprehension, 'Harry's never travelled by portkey before!'

'You haven't Harry?' Mr Weasley inquired in surprise, 'Extraordinary! It's just amazing how muggles get around without magic. I remember reading about something called a helio-copter which muggles use to fly! Isn't that just…' Mr Weasley spiralled off onto a tangent about the wonder of muggle transportation that the rest of the group tuned out. Fred and George were preoccupied with trying to unearth themselves from underneath the large sack. It was so full and heavy that they weren't having much luck.

'Yes Arthur,' Mrs Weasley said warily, cutting through her husband's spiel, 'I think the children are all very tired. We should divide up their school supplies and then send them up to bed.'

The rest of the evening was spent doing just that, first Mrs Weasley handed them all the required items off each of their booklists. Once the last Lockhart volume had been distributed- the Malfoys seemed to have an extensive collection, she let them have free run of the more peculiar items remaining. An auction ensued, Ron outbid Percy for a golden razor, whilst Ginny nabbed set a green silk drapes and a small leather notebook. By the end of the auction only one item remained, a questionable looking and extremely small laundry bag containing a grubby towel, robe and slipper set that all seemed to be made out of old pillowcase.

Harry and Ron trudged up to Ron's attic bedroom each carrying a load of new things in their arms, after throwing his things into the trunk in the corner, Harry slithered into the ghastly orange sheets of Ron's bed. He fell asleep almost at once, it had been a long, confusing day.


End file.
